The Surgeon: Last Train to Paradise
by MasterMartin
Summary: Paradise: A planet said to be without suffering or want. A planet of endless resources and love for all. Surely it isn't real...or is it? People have been vanishing left and right, and some had theorised that a train is involved, with this "Paradise" in mind. Surely this needs the help of a Time Lord to crack. But with no Doctor in 112233C, someone else must step to the plate..
1. Chapter 1: More than a Legend

10 O'clock. On the dot. Tim Wilkins was late for work. Again.

Or at least, he was going to be. The trains in this station never ran on time. When they said they'd run at 9, they'd run at 10. And when they said they'd run at 10, they'd often break down, almost on cue. He thought that they would at least try to fix that, but his equally dominant cynical side assumed they did that so they didn't actually have to work, or so the employers didn't have to pay anyone to do so. Or SOMETHING, to explain this rampart idiocy from within the station. Tim sighed and sat back down on the bench that he had been lazily slumped over for the past hour or so, fiddling with his red necktie and tapping impatiently on his briefcase. He briefly considered phoning his boss to explain he'd be sick, or at the very least late, once more. But then his mind flashed to said boss, his face as red as a motobug's hide, screaming vaguely in his direction that one more excuse would be met with "harsh, yet justified action". This would be that one more excuse, and it was rather obvious to him that the "action" was to be fired.

Tim threw his briefcase aside, almost like a spoiled child, and buried his face deep into his hands in a mixture of frustration and despair. Life seemed to suck on this backwater planet he lived on. A planet ravaged by war and greed, a planet laid bare and lacking, teetering on the very brink of destruction. He, oh so slowly, began to wish this "Paradise" rumour was true. It seemed too good to be so; legend told of a planet, somewhere out in the borders of the Solar System, where every resource was in seemingly never-ending quantity. The water would flow with the lightest of blues, and would be so pure that you could just plunge your face into the water and drink with no consequence. All trees would grow unendingly, with green stretches of grasslands full of loving animals for miles. There would be no war, or indeed any conflict of any kind. No-one would tire, or suffer, or hate, or destroy. A planet of ever-present peace and harmony.

To think that so many scientists got suckered into it. There had been a newsflash a few weeks back that a suitable planet for this "Paradise" was found, but no-one knew how to get to it with available technology. 'Absolute hogwash,' Tim thought, almost to the point of saying it out loud, 'The mere thought of it. There's no Paradise. Hell, there's no way to even get there!"

And that was when Tim's main thought processes came to a sudden stop. A bright light had flooded his vision, and all main mental actions ceased. Right where the train should have been this morning, a weird silhouette had taken it's place. It was...vaguely in the shape of a train? Tim couldn't tell from this distance. All he could see is that shadow of this unusual vehicle, and all he could think was an dominating urge to get up and walk to it. His legs began to straighten against his sub-conscience will and the being slowly began to stumble to the vehicle in question. His mind felt like someone had plugged a vacuum or something into the back of his neck and it was beginning to suck his brain out through it. Like it was swirling a giant whirlpool consisting of some unknown liquid, and with each passing swirl some basic function was...stolen. He continued to shamble towards the light, his mind now empty and his limbs half limp.

And buttons slowly forming over his eyes.

~~~~~~

"...Huh," Janic mused, "Seventh case this week. Must be some sort of hysteria or something."

The Surgeon mumbled to himself slightly and resumed his work on the console, pulling one wire this way and another wire that way. That was something he always hated with Time And Relative Dimensions In Space ships; they always found a way to break down and could never quite be repaired again. Then again, it was the Time Lord's own fault for stealing a prototype TARDIS (from a museum, of all places) when he went to escape the Time War. Though, to be fair, he picked the prototype only because he knew it was capable of doing the whole "Dimensions" part, as in travelling outside of the void without reducing itself to mulch in the process. He figured that if he went to a universe with no Time Lords, there would be no Time War and he'd never get suckered back into it. Great plan...until he crash landed the thing and regenerated from it. He always cursed the day he forgot to activate the trans-dimensional stabilisers. Or at the very least taken the right turn at universe Theta Delta P12.

But that was some time ago, when he was young and was in his 6th Incarnation. Time Lords often had a funny way of cheating death by, for a lack of better way to describe it, shedding an old body and growing a new one. Even if this meant changing appearance and indeed personality every one of the 12 times it could be done. The Surgeon often cursed his previous incarnations for their blatant immaturity and stupidity, in particular reference to his 8th Incarnation, a man who let countless numbers die due to his own impatience and impulsiveness. So it wasn't the best of instances when he first came too after his latest regeneration and saw someone exactly like him. He didn't exactly get his name, nor did he really care for it. Was it Sonny? Sonniku?...Nicky, maybe? Again, it was irrelevant data to him. He had only just regenerated into his 9th Incarnation, and the stress of Regeneration Sickness wasn't making his new adjustments any easier. Still, he battled through the constant headaches and nausea to work on his TARDIS. He was currently underneath the console itself, pawing questionably at the wires with one hand and holding his trusty Sonic Screwdriver in the other. He had been working on the console itself for hours, mainly to repair damage and re-add parts after it had been cannibalised by outside forces, to suitably modest success rates.

Across from the console, sprawled across one of the large sofas at the edge of the console platform, was Janic Needlemouse, the Surgeon's companion. Their first meeting had been brief and...awkward. But that was in the past now and half of it was fuzzy to the Surgeon at this point anyway. All he truly remembered was that she was once a male hedgehog who had been subjected to some Time Lord DNA that had been collected from The Surgeon himself, and who later...uh..."psuedo-regenerated" when shot point blank with a laser. The Surgeon couldn't tell if she was going through Regeneration Sickness like he was, nor if she was handling it any better if she was. The Surgeon rolled himself out from under the console and looked up at Janic. She was a purple female hedgehog, about 16 years of age and a suitable height for it, with her quills in a ponytail and a red jumper with black jeans for clothes. As noted before, she was currently spread out across one of the sofas that dotted the TARDIS console room, bathing lazily in the green light that the room's light fixtures emitted. She held a newspaper somewhat weakly in her hands while her eyes darted across it's pages, jumping quite awkwardly from word to word. Nevertheless, she seemed rather engrossed in the story.

"What's, uh..." The Surgeon asked, sitting up fully, "What's that you're reading? Something about boys?"

Janic suddenly angled her head to look at the Surgeon, a cheeky grin spread across her face, "No, of course not. It's next week's paper. At least, I THINK it is."

"Ahh, the problems of being able to travel more-or-less anywhere at a single whim," The Surgeon mused, "You lose track of time."

"Or what passes for it in this place," Janic reminded, "You see, I was reading LAST week's newspaper and I noticed a recurring trend among them. There's these...cases of people just vanishing. Not in general, in certain places, mainly train stations. No true eyewitnesses, they just say the person vanished in a flash of light. The light vanishes and the clock is at least a minute faster than it should be. Strange thing."

"Coincidence, you think?" The Surgeon pondered, already waltzing to the TARDIS console in a sub-conscience manner, "OR...maybe the clocks didn't just become that one minute faster. Maybe time itself skipped a bit? It CAN happen after all...and blimey is it painful when it does. Especially when you try to change history and start living back in time...actually, I think that was one of my causes of regeneration. Then again, I had the title of regenerating after cutting myself while shaving back on my home planet. Never quite managed to live that down..."

Janic raised her head to flash The Surgeon a strange look.

"...One of my regenerations was a haemophiliac, alright? Not that it matters, that particular one lived long enough for me to get sick of it."

"It's...odd," Janic said, scrunching up her face, "You make it sound a bit like a pair of disposable gloves. Get them a bit too mucky, throw them away and get a new pair..."

"Better then taking the lives of others to prove we were superior," The Surgeon shrugged, "But enough exposition. About that clock...I don't suppose you've heard of the Train to Paradise?"

"Of course," Janic said, now shifting her body to discard the paper and sit up properly on the sofa, "The special train that promises to bring you to a planet of infinite resources. Sounds like a fantasy...and you're about to tell me that it's real, aren't you?"

"...Maybe..." The Surgeon said, momentarily eyeing the TARDIS console, "You see, while I was repairing the console, I set it up so it could track all the planets in the local sector. And not only have I found a planet that MAY have similar attributes to this 'Paradise', but a set of stellar-metric tracks left in space; tiny rips in the fabric of reality, often left behind by those with warp drives. Besides, I thought that there were no such things as Freedom Fighters or Cybermen in this universe and..well..."

"...Huh," Janic cocked her head to one side, "So you think the Train is kidnapping these people?"

"Again, it's a solid maybe," The Surgeon said, spinning one of the wheels on the TARDIS console and then batting at one of the levers, "Besides, I've checked the local sector for classic Time Lord enemies; Cybermen, Daleks, Sontarens, Cloockvurks...I don't see anything. Besides part two, think about it!" He suddenly skipped to Janic and grabbed her by the shoulders, a large grin spread across his face, "It's an interstellar train! With warp drives and heroes and villains and bowls of fried potato strips just BEGGING to be mixed with sodium chloride and diluted acetic acid!"

Janic flashed a smile, "So, adventure. How do we resist?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...Sandwich, miss?"

A sudden noise woke Valeria with a sudden start. She raised her head from the window it was sat against in a groggy manner, eyes half-closed and eyelids twitching slightly. She groaned for a small while whilst awaking from her slumber, before finally becoming alert and instantly opening her eyes in shock. A myriad of thoughts were entering her head, including 'This isn't my office!'. Infact, what 'it' really was was what appeared to be some sort of train carriage, one that was lavishly detailed and fancily decorated. From the walls hung curtains covering the windows, coloured a rich golden colour and seemingly unstained, whilst the floor beneath her was a pristine red carpet over oak-wood floorboards, of which no single one creaked or wobbled. The walls were a plain, but understated red also, trimmed with golden pseudo-engravings and images of what appeared to be misty orbs, like a planet. In front of her was a table, seemingly made of marble or ivory and sporting a cupholder and small indentations for a plate and some utensils. Overall, a well decorated area for something so mundane.

She then focused her attention on the...thing in front of her. It appeared to be a robot, or at the very least a cyborg. His species was quite hard to make out, since so much of his body was obscured or replaced by steel and wires that jutted at odd angles from his limbs. His pupils were a very unusual shade of teal, with slightly red tint in his main 'eye', making it look like he had a slightly ill candy cane for an eye. He was clothed in what appeared to be a tuxedo, bowtie included, that was slightly ill-fitting on his bulky robotic form. He was holding a tray in his hand and a monocle over his left pupil.

"Sandwiches for the lady?" he repeated.

"I, uh...yeah-yes please," came Valeria's awkward stammer of a reply. This wasn't really like her; more often than not her voice was bold and confrontational, always being at the forefront of any investigation. But not here. Here she was taken from her small and stocky office and transported to something more...lavish. A Five- maybe a Four and a Half- star hotel on wheels. At least, it sounded like it was on wheels. She could certainly hear the racking and rumbling of the train beneath her feet, but she couldn't feel any vibrations that often accompanied this kind of thing. Even around her were other passengers, in varying clothes and classes, chatting the evening away with glasses of champagne in hand like it was any other. It was...confusing, to say the least. Back home, she was hired for simple investigations into suspicious individuals and even then it often took place in normal (if borderline dangerous) circumstances. Even now, her jacket pocket was bulging from her large revolver, the Longbow, which she kept on hand for emergencies. And she was ready to use it if the goings went to hell.

Her thought process was temporarily stopped when a ceramic plate was carefully handled into the indentation on the table. On that plate contained two sandwiches, stuffed full of salmon and mayonnaise, while a small amount of garnish and a mint sweet hovered around it. Beyond that was, stationed within the cup holder, a bottle of Davidson's Best Brand beer. That stuff was the highest quality of it and Valeria never even had a sniff of it. But, there it was; a high-quality drink alongside her favourite type of sandwich. Things got even more strange, to which Valeria pulled herself closer to sniff at the sandwich, before casting a strange face.

"How...how did you know..."

"All passengers on-board are given brain-scans for their edible desires, miss," the cyborg said, his voice in that odd British falsetto all butlers and servants seemingly needed to have by law, "All with their permission, of course. It just saves us the time of taking orders when we can just prepare your favourite dishes upon request. At the highest quality possible, too."

Valeria was getting confused. Where was she? How did she get here? She cleared her throat and stumbled to her feet. For some reason they felt somewhat numb, though she managed to stay upright. She grabbed onto the cyborg's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, "Look, Cyborg Person...where the hell am I?"

"I must inquire you try to resist the urge to use profanity, no matter how tepid, in the vicinity of the others, Miss Stinger," the cyborg humphed, "I am Lionel Walters, your server today. And you are currently travelling through the expanses of space at speeds untold and uncountable. Take a look outside and see for yourself, if that will be enough to convince you."

Valeria did, throwing open the previously closed curtains and staring out into the area behind them. And Lionel was not joking. Beyond the reinforced glass lay an endless abyss of space, peppered with stars and the odd gas nebula. It looked more like some sort of interstellar postcard or Sci-Fi flick instead of the true blankness of the night sky. She couldn't believe it, no matter how hard she tried; she, a plucky and bitter young private detective...on a star train. Travelling through space, thousands if not millions of miles from her home. Valeria knew she was what many would consider "hard", but now, staring out into what seemed to be the impossible, she couldn't help but gibber somewhat. It was all...mesmorisingly confusing.

And yet...it awakened something within her psyche. Something she had forced to be buried in the back of her mind for some time. Just the thought of her old adventures, travelling with her best friend. Now it was just nothing more than a fleeting memory, half embedded with fun and fear and loss and, perhaps most of all, regret. But was it her regret...or someone else's? The thoughts turned to that man, a shapeless and soundless shadow burned into the pits of her sub-conscience, that made her feel a bit strange even now. Even WITH her legs half-asleep, she felt faint and was almost about to collapse when Lionel caught her mid-tumble and helped her back into her seat. She cracked open the bottle of beer on the table and took a hasty swig of it, like someone would drag on a cigarette. The taste was...fascinating, to say the least, but at least the feeling to her legs was starting to return. She turned back to Lionel, who was still standing in that odd and stiff way, clearing her throat and asking, "How...how did I get here?" in her old semi-gruff tone.

"All will be explained in due time, miss," Lionel said, sounding slightly more sympathetic, "As for you, I feel as if I may ask a few questions myself; are you alright, miss? You seemingly went rather weak at the spectacle of it all. Not even our most...squeamish of passengers do that. Is something...troubling you?"

"I dunno, it's..." Valeria began, before stopping herself, "N-No. No, it's uh, it's fine. I just...it brought up some bad memories. Just...some old adventures with a friend of mine."

"It sounds more like a bad dream, Miss Valeria. Perhaps we accidentally made you bump your head getting into the carriage?" Lionel said, his butler-esque drawl continuing long into his dialogue.

"No, no, it did happen!" Valeria snapped back, shooting out of her straight and glaring at Lionel straight into his eye, catching the attention of some of the other passengers who simply looked on with a mix of amusement and annoyance "Look, it was all real! I may not be able to PROVE it, but I remember it. The Screwdrivers, the Chrono-Pirates, even the engine noise! I've been trying to forgot that for YEARS, but even now I can still hear it's engines in my ears."

As Valeria said that, she began to image that noise within her own ears; a grinding, howling noise that transcended the world beyond, that slowly wailed and paused before wailing once more. At one time, this noise was the sound of adventure and wonder, but now it was a bitter reminder of the hellholes she has seen and experienced firsthand. All the therapy in the world couldn't hold back that noise and the demons that followed. Except...this time Valeria wasn't imagining it. The noise really was filling the carriage and the other passengers had began to look towards a certain spot with wonder and fear; some even dropped their champagne glasses in shock. Valeria turned to look, hand inching towards the Longbow, but stopped. In the place everyone was looking was a small gust of wind and a pool of light, vaguely interspersed with electric arcs flying across the room. Slowly, but surely, some sort of cylinder faded into existence. It was a large and tall cylinder, with what appeared to be a door on the front and angled roundels making up the top and bottom of it. A light was also attached atop that upper roundel, flashing in a slow and methodical manner, with a panel or two of glass broken for whatever reason. But what cinched it for Valeria, the one thing that almost made her drop her revolver in pure shock, was some words imprinted across the upper roundel, faded but still very much legible:

TIME AND RELATIVE DIMENSIONS IN SPACE

The whirs and gusts of wind ceased and Valeria paused, uncertain on what to really do. The other passengers too looked on in shock, not quite sure on what they had just seen, whilst Lionel just stared at the cylinder with that odd and snooty look on his face. There was a creak as the doors opened and green light spilled out into the room, of which two shadows appeared from. One was quite taller than the other and a male, being some sort of fox-like creature with an unusual split in his tail. His top quill was a much darker shade of grey than the rest of him, which formed a stripe that went all the way to between his eyes. He wore a tuxedo, black in colour, with a suitable white shirt and red bowtie wrapped around his neck. He wore brown leather gloves and a blue necktie around his head like a headband. One of his shoes appeared to be some sort of trainer whilst the other was a more suitable brown shoe, leading overall to this off, disjointed look about him. He looked scruffy and panicky, almost like her old friend. But it couldn't be him...could it?

Standing next to him was a female, this one a hedgehog and purple in fur colour. Her quills were tied up into a ponytail with a red jumper and black jeans for clothes. What appeared to be a cricket bat with duct tape wrapped around the handle was secured to her back via some sort of semi-invisible harness and she was just as scruffy, if not more so, than her friend. For whatever reason, some sort of anger began to well up in Valeria's mind, pooling into a puddle of sick hatred at the back of her mind, but once more she couldn't tell why. The female turned to her friend.

"You know..." she started, "There was PROBABLY a better way to appear on the train without standing out like a police box in New New York. We could've hid in the storage cart."

"Mark 7 Space Trains don't usually HAVE storage carts," the male retorted in a tired British accent, "And besides, I was trying to be stealthy. Guess the TARDIS needs just a little more service."

He quickly rubbed his hands together and digged into his jacket pocket before something was fished out of it. It resembled some sort of metallic wand with a ratcheting neck and rosewood handle, orange crystals situated against each end. The stranger held the device in his hand with a particular side, one covered by four small black rods and held it up the cylinder. He pressed a button on the device and a faint buzzing noise emanated throughout the carriage as an orange light was cast across the door to the cylinder, though nothing happened. He pulled a face and turned back to his friend, "Well, we're already standing out, so...well, I suppose we should get on with those aforementioned fried potato strips. Shall we, Miss Janic?"

"Why yes, Surgeon. I'll have a look around" 'Janic' said back, gesturing him towards what she assumed was the snack cart with her free hand, which was the direction he started to move in. Valeria's heart was pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. It was him! And yet...it wasn't him. He didn't look anything like she remembered him. He was...taller, for a start. And had red fur. And was basically an entire different species. But yet, that was him, in his slightly ill-fitting suit and silly little bowtie. Breath abated, she reached out to grab the Surgeon by his wrist. He stopped and began to stare at Valeria, his face screwing up in a mixture of surprise and confusion, almost as if he really did remember her. Valeria cleared her throat once more and slipped into her gruff tone of voice like an evening gown.

"Surgeon," she said in a stoic manner, trying to bury the conflicting emotions welling up inside her, "It's been a while."

"...Has it?" The Surgeon asked, looking around in a semi-dilerious state, "Well, it must've been for you, at the very least. Why stop me? NO wait, wait, I know! You...want an...autograph, is that right?"

Valeria's heart sank somewhat; did he really forget her? She shook her head and said, "No, Surgeon. It's ME. That should help in a few ways. IT'S. ME."

The Surgeon just continued to stare at her. Clearly she had met him before, and he was half-certain he had too. But...where? And, more importantly, who? As he scanned his own memory to figure out who she was, the more and more his regeneration sickness fought against it. Almost like he didn't want to know who this woman was. She looked only slightly familiar, perhaps with a passing glance at some old accomplice. Again, he was too sick and delirious to know or care.

"It's...you?" The Surgeon asked, trying to clear his mind, "Why yes, it IS you. I...think...who're you again?"

Valeria's look focused on anger and Janic could see what might happen next. She unsheathed her cricket bat and began to walk over to Valeria, dragging a cocky attitude in tow; "Hey, what's with all the ruckus? You might put the others off their food if you shot a guy or two!"

"This...isn't any of your concern," Valeria said after a while through a restrained tone, "I have some...unfinished business."

"And there's a better way to get around that," Janic said, trying to keep the situation stable. The Surgeon, even in his state and with what little time they'd know each other, had given Janic a quick crash course in Chrono-Tourism. Rule 1: Pacifism all the way. Best way to avoid corrupting the timeline, after all. Janic resumed, "But he's a bit...loopy at the moment, so he probably WON'T remember you from sight alone. How about we know your name and how you know this guy?"

Valeria's snarl dissipated and she stepped away from the ever-confused Surgeon, "Alright, kid. My name is Valeria Stinger and I'm a Private Detective for hire. I ALSO happen to be-"

Before she could continue, a loud puff of smoke caught her off guard and almost sent her tumbling head over heels before she could correct herself. The Surgeon looked at where the smoke had appeared, as did Janic and soon most of the passengers, who were mostly watching this conversation with curiosity. In the smoke stood a dapper sort of figure. He was tall and quite foreboding, with a general theme of "ringmaster" to his attire. He was wearing a waist coat over dress trousers, covered with a deep red trenchcoat with a strange wing around the back of his head. He was wearing brown leather gloves and boots, the stitching obvious and oddly done, while a bowtie hung around his neck with a button acting as its centre piece. He was also wearing a deep red top hat with a black band wrapped around it and a cane in his right hand, starting with another button model and ending with a brass cap. But perhaps the most interesting thing about him was his face, or lack thereof; his face was completely encased in shadow, by both the hat and some other unusual manner that wasn't easily apparent, leaving only two glowing yellow eyes and a toothy grin.

The figure raised his hand and cane to the air, bellowing out a "Ladies and Gentlemen!" in an odd, raspy voice, "Welcome! To the Last Train to Paradise!"


	2. Chapter 2: Faces Old and New

Everyone in the cabin immediately stopped in shock. Most of the passengers were simply staring at the man in shock, minds awash with exactly what was happening and how. The Surgeon, who had by this point seen this sort of magic countless times, stood slouched against the TARDIS with his face broadcasting a sign of confidence and mellow-ness to the man in front of him. Both Valeria and Janic, meanwhile, had already drawn their respective weapons once more, not aiming at the man but eyeing him suspiciously. Lionel, finally, stood in the exact same way he had the entire time, barely raising an eyebrow to the entire charade. Instead, he stepped forward and stood to the side of this unusual figure as otherworldy violins rained down from the speakers like musical precipitation.

"Ladies, Gentlemen and.." he eyed Janic, who looked out of place in her more "common" clothes, "...Paupers, this is our grand leader, driver of the train and all-around entertainer, The Ringmaster."

"Thank you, Lioneeeeel..." The Ringmaster said in his wheezing, rasping voice, "And welcome, all of you. Welcome to my one and only Train to Paradise."

"Nice trick," The Surgeon said, still leaning against his TARDIS, "What was that, Sontaren cloaking device? Maybe a ClookVurk Battle Teleporter? OOH, can't go wrong with stolen Galifreyan technology, can you? Is it? Come on, I wanna know!"

The Ringmaster ignored the Surgeon and continued his speech, "I am afraid I could not have explained my...intentions to you earlier. However, I AM aware that all of you...or rather, most of you, have read the letters and waivers sent to you by yours truly, so hopefully you know why you're here."

"Some of us, uh..." Janic started, twiddling her fingers, "DIDN'T read it. So...could we get a little recap?"

The Ringmaster smirked, "Sure. Why not? For those of you...unaware of your purpose, you have been purposefully selected to relinquish the majesty of planet of Paradise. Thought to be nothing more than a rumour, a myth. Fake facts and figures, spoken only by those who seek attention. But, with my years of research and hi-tech transport, I found it. Even now, we are speeding along at speeds unmeasurable! Well, almost. But regardless, you have all been chosen for your purity, your good taste or your...strong crafstmanship. With your help, we can not only travel to Paradise, not only is it a reality...we can make it better. We can make it OURS!" He turned to Janic, "Does that answer your question?"

"A little bit," Janic shrugged back.

"But, did you HAVE to kidnap us for it?" Valeria piped up, standing tall, "You could've just told us."

"Well, the way I invited you WAS out of left field, I admit," The Ringmaster said, leaning on his cane, "But my train is a finicky thing when it comes to precise movements. That, and I didn't want to raise the attention of the more...common folk. The less the average man knows about both Paradise and this train the better."

"True..." The Surgeon chipped in again, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "What WOULD the common man do with such a planet like Paradise? Well, mine it to its core, hunt all native species to extinction, bomb each other to oblivion and open chilli dog establishments everywhere. Now THAT would be disastrous."

"HEY!" Janic cried out, obviously offended.

"Exactly, sir," Lionel added to the conversation next, "So we had to be quite subtle with picking you up. And then of course YOU show up in the most unsubtle way, overly spoiling the suspense of it all."

The Surgeon looked over his shoulder. The TARDIS indeed took up a large amount of space in the carriage, though thankfully not enough for passengers to be unable to get by. He sniffed awkwardly and mumbled, "Right. I,uh...I'll try to move it then."

Just as he reached for the door's handle a loud energetic sound, slowly deepening in pitch, emitted and the TARDIS became covered in a light-blue aura. The Surgeon lept back in shock, before trying to open the door, kicking it and running his Screwdriver over the lock. Nothing. Janic ran over to check on the door too, "What's wrong, Surgeon?"

"Force field," The Surgeon hissed, "And it's deadlocked too!"

"Well it's not like I can just let you go..." The Ringmaster said behind them, "You boarded this train without an invite. Until we get to Paradise and you are justly dealt with, you must stay with us. Until then, enjoy the ride! Refreshments are the next car over."

There was a bright flash and a puff of smoke, throwing most of those on their feet to the ground. Janic was the first to stand again and ran to where The Ringmaster had been. Now, nothing remained of where he once stood, not even a imprint on the carpet.

"Okay..." Janic said, "He's gone."

Valeria was somewhat confused. What letter? She didn't remember a letter. All she remembered was falling asleep in her office and then suddenly BOOM she was on a train. With a Ringmaster and the Surgeon and everything. She didn't even know what to think. Would The Surgeon remember her once more? COULD he? Though to be fair, she had changed quite a bit since they had last met, but then again so had he. It was both maddening and slightly disheartening, seeing as both of the two, once beloved partners, and yet were so far away. Damn. She needed a drink. Or, at least, another one. She approached the Surgeon once more, starting with a "So, where were we?"

"I think we get the memo," Janic said in a slightly annoyed way, "You know him, and he doesn't remember you."

"Maybe I was being to quick to assume he'd remember me," Valeria shrugged, "I mean, I looked NOTHING like I do now at the time. Hell, I'm still not sure he's even the same person I think he is."

"Hmm..." Janic mused, "Dalek Hybrids?"

Valeria smiled slightly, "Cybermen."

"Graske?"

"Chrono-Pirates."

"Sontaren forces?"

"The Devil himself!"

"...Seriously?" Janic stepped back, "Well...I guess it's a bit stupid to just ASSUME you're a former companion at this point."

Valeria shrugged, "It helps. Look, I need another drink. I've woken up in a place I don't recognise and my past is continually punching me in the face. Perhaps we should talk over this in the dining cart?"

Janic shuffled her view over to the dining cart itself. It was almost exactly the same as the cart both were currently in, bar the larger tables and another large table at the other side of the cart full of plastic cups, drink dispensers and finger food. To Valeria it looked like they were put there in case the passengers wanted something beyond the pre-established "favourites" (which, to her at least, seemed to undermine the whole pre-established thing to begin with). Inside the cart was devoid of passengers, with the exception of two people; Lionel and the Surgeon, one talking to the other.

"So you're saying you DO have fried potato strips?" The Surgeon asked, his voice muffled through the glass.

Lionel huffed back his reply, "Yes, sir. As you asked the past four times."

"And do you have sodium chloride and diluted acetic acid?"

Lionel looked a bit blank.

"Oh, right, I forgot," The Surgeon said, scratching the side of his head, "N321 MKV Robotic Brain Storage Devices aren't the fastest of organic pseudo-computers. I mean, uh...salt and vinegar."

Thankfully, Lionel seemingly did not get the accidental offensive remark, instead nodding politely and saying, "Yes, sir. We do have salt and vinegar."

The Surgeon looked towards Janic and flashed a strange grin towards her, to which she directed with a smile back before turning back to Valeria and mumbling, "Geez, I'd hate to see him when he's NOT sick."

"So, we've got the fact that The Ringmaster is obviously evil," Janic said, hands clasped around a cup of coffee, " But we'll get to that in a bit. It's not like we're in a rush, after all, and we've PROBABLY got more interesting matters to attend to. Who ARE you, exactly?"

Valeria paused for thought, her own gloved hands circling the rim of a glass of wine. All three had transferred to the dining cart to keep the drinks close by. As mentioned before the appearance of the cart was almost the exact same as the previous cart beyond the table sizes. Though, that said, closer inspection revealed that there were a few more subtle differences. Valeria herself had sat herself on one side of the table by herself, while both Janic and The Surgeon had placed themselves on the other side. The Surgeon had managed to find his bowl of fries and was munching on them at a steady pace, eyeing Valeria with a continued stare of confusion, an obvious sign that he was trying quite hard to figure out who she actually was. Alongside his bowl was also another, smaller bowl of chocolate pudding. Valeria knew why; where there was fish fingers and custard in one universe, there would be fries and chocolate pudding in another. Back in her day the Surgeon sometimes went on and on about the mysterious figure known only as "The Doctor" and how much the Surgeon looked up to him. Though, and Valeria was certain that Janic shared this opinion, perhaps he could stand to dial back the attempts at being similar quite a bit.

"My name is Valeria Stinger," Valeria said, "Well it is NOW. I work as private detective on the planet of Vortox. No thanks to the Surgeon. I was just lucky that Mobians had already colonised the planet at the time you...*ahem* 'dropped' me off."

"Hmmm. I do remember pushing someone out of my TARDIS in my previous life," The Surgeon mused, tapping his left temple.

"But why?" Janic mused, taking a hard swig of her coffee, "Why push her out? I know the other...versions of you were different, but even then I can't see any of you being THAT cruel..."

The Surgeon paused, blinking several times trying to clear his foggy mind, before dipping one of the fries in the bowl of chocolate pudding and nibbling on it, "Incarnation is more descriptive, to be clear. And to be honest, I can't remember why I pushed her out. Maybe it wasn't me, maybe it was an accident, maybe...look, I can't concentrate enough to focus on an answer. It'll come to me, don't worry."

"After that, well that's where things get sorta sketchy," Valeria sighed, hands now resting on the table, "I remember falling out of the TARDIS and then some sort of large force. I felt an immense pain in my back, like every part of my spine had shattered into fragments and I passed out. After that I woke up like...well, this."

Janic studied Valeria quietly during the ensuing awkward silence. She was, to Janic at the very least, a strange creature that could only be described as a mix between a hedgehog and a scorpion. Perhaps the most defining feature was her large tail, ending in a stinger with a yellow shell and fleshy underside. The rest of her skin was a mishmash of yellow and black hues, with parts looking a tad more 'solid' than average skin. Her eyes were a dark brown simply existing inside a traditional eye, without a hint of shine or definitive glare. They were just...there. Her nose was just two slits cut into her muzzle, which was the same colour as her skin and yet stood out regardless, though closer inspection showed that there were signs of a external nose that had seemingly fallen off. In fact, upon closer look, there were a few unusual stitches, scars and scrapes across what could be seen of her body and face, and the tail appeared to just be stitched on as well (though it still had the ability to move). She wore a suit with skirt and tights, as well as a hat with a flower in its black band, all in dark purple with black trim and a purple of lighter tone for her gloves. Her suit jacket was unbuttoned to see a white shirt beneath, holding some kind of leather holster with a gun's handle jutting out of it. The holster was long, enough for the holder to feature haphazard stitching for extra space, and a small pouch was attached to the side for some sort of lens. At the end of her feet was a pair of purple heels, which continually clopped against the wooden floor as the silence built. Valeria sniffed somewhat and noticed her glass was empty. She made her case with an attempt at a cold hard voice that Janic had deduced she hadn't got THAT much practice with and walked off to the drinks dispenser, her heels clacking all the way.

"Hey, Surgeon?" Janic whispered as Valeria went off to refill her glass, "You think she pseudo-regenerated like I did when she fell? Like. some parts of you ended up on or, dare I say, IN her?"

"...Possibly," The Surgeon mused, fiddling with the settings on his Sonic Screwdriver, "I mean, it WAS my first incarnation where I openly kissed my companions."

"...Why?" Janic asked before quickly stopping herself, "Oh wait, let me guess; because The Doctor kisses his companions..."

The Surgeon looked quite sheepish, "Well...it helps..."

Janic looked to her left before looking at the Surgeon, "...Are you going to kiss me?"

The Surgeon looked genuinely surprised at this question, scratching the back of his head and stammering out something vaguely meaning, "W-Well, i-it wasn't like I was PLANNING to, b-but, uh...if you want to...why ask?"

"Oh, you know..." Janic's fingers danced across the ring of her mug, "Just asking..."

"Well..." The Surgeon mused, resuming his ways with the Screwdriver, "I suppose I could...you know, give you a small one..."

"To get it out the way, I suppose," Janic arched her head towards The Surgeon, "Go on."

The Surgeon responded by planting a quick kiss on Janic's cheek. Janic arched back in another response; for such a small and fleeting kiss, it was surprisingly genuine. It was soft and tender, enough to send a flutter or two through her being. She began to wonder what Valeria must have experienced those many times the Surgeon had kissed her in the past. If he did. And if she was even there. Every time Janic caught her looking at him, all she saw was a face of...if nothing else, confusion. Perhaps this previous incarnation of The Surgeon was a lot different than she could have guessed. Janic knew a lot about Regeneration - hell, she experienced it firsthand - and even then she had little clue on just what the person she let whisk her away into a life of space-faring adventures could have been like in the past. Hopefully, she would soon find out. It did not take long for Valeria to return, thankfully this time with a bottle instead of a glass. Perhaps she had this intuition, similar to Janic's own in fact, that they would soon be on the move. She hoped so. She turned to the Surgeon, who showed little changed expression. If that kiss affected him in any way, he certainly wasn't showing it. Instead he had returned to fiddling with his Sonic Screwdriver, pressing a variety of different buttons in the hope of...SOMETHING.

"Surgeon..." Janic started, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find a way to deactivate that force field..." The Surgeon mused, not even breaking his stare at the Screwdriver while talking, "There must be an anti-deadlock setting on this thing."

"Deadlock setting?" Janic asked back.

Something started to itch in the back of Valeria's mind. She knew exactly what the problem was and how to deal with it. The urge to explain it began to bubble away inside of her. She didn't know how long this Janic had been travelling with the Surgeon. Hell, she didn't even know how long SHE had been travelling with her incarnation of him. But the bubbling remained and increased, becoming stronger and less resistible. Until she could stand it no longer and blurted out, "A deadlock seal is designed to lock a door from pretty much any form of unlocking outside of the original key. Even high-level Galifreyan technology like the Screwdriver can't unlock it."

"At least not without some major help," The Surgeon said, giving up and putting the Screwdriver in his pocket, "The Screwdriver is a powerful tool, but not powerful enough for stronger locks like Deadlock seals. What we need is a massive boost of energy. Not just any old boost, though. One powerful enough to reverse the polarity of two energy fields and completely smash the lock as opposed to merely opening it. We need...well, we need another Galifreyan device like the Screwdriver."

"Why not use your last one?" Valeria asked, "You had a different model last time I saw you."

"No good. Some bozo took it apart and couldn't get it back together again," The Surgeon growled, "So he got fed up and used its remains to cook eggs or something."

"Using a ultimate unlocking tool for a microwave or the like...sounds a bit stupid," Janic mused, "Then again, so is said unlocking tool that can't do deadlocks, wood or poultry. What about that Spanner?"

"Eh?"

"You know, the Sonic Spanner. You said you had that."

"I didn't have it," The Surgeon said again, "A friend of mine did. And even then it was stolen from him, so I don't know where it's gone off to."

"...You never know..." Valeria said, "Knowing you, it might as well be here. You seem to be more a Coincidence Lord over a Time Lord."

"Well, a Time Lord can sense quite a lot around him," The Surgeon said again, now looking a bit smug, "It would be natural we have good recognition and guesswork skills. What do you mean, though?"

"Well...Lionel is still over there, by the dispensers, so I asked him if there was anything...special on this thing. He told me that there is some sort of spanner-like thing on the train," Valeria shrugged, "Said the chief engineer uses it to fix damages in the trains engine room. I say we go check it out."

"...Good idea..." The Surgeon looked up at Valeria and smiled, while Valeria smiled back, "You know, I think I remember why you were my companion for a fair while. Quick on your feet! And smart on your...brain...okay that sounded a lot better in my head, but the point still stands!" He, in turn, stood up too, "Let's pay that Engineer a visit."

"Just don't do a French accent like last time," Janic facepalmed, "That almost got us incinerated last time."

Another cough, another step towards an early grave.

Tetra resented that cough. She resented every cough these days. Every hack, every retch, every bark and near-vomit reminded her of her steadily deteriorating condition. And damn if her own body was reminding her she was dying. Even the Ringmaster was surprised she was still standing and working. At least, she thought he was. She was far too disorientated to tell at this point. She was working on feeding more coal into the secondary engine that powered the lights on the train herself, her hands shaking with the same sort of ferocity normally associated for cutting the wires on a time bomb or something along those lines. Various staff members on the train had told her to stop multiple times, but nevertheless she continued, vaguely indefatigable and unerring in her work. Then, just as she was resuming her courteous stride, another wave came. She went weak at the joints and almost collapsed, falling to the floor and dropping the coal. Her coughing returned, violent and intense, and even some blood came up. The blood, as ever for her, was as black as the coal she handled and smelled just as putrid. Tetra forced herself upright and shuffled into the nearby corner, grabbing her legs into a huddle and started breathing heavily to stave off the urge to be sick. The feeling soon washed over her and the sickness ceased. At least, for now. Tetra continued her weak gasps for air and then reached up into the cupboard that was only suspended a few feet from the ground. In it was a bottle of water and a tin. Tetra opened the tin and her eyes widened in terror;

Only one pill left.

That pill was enough to stave off the illness for a month or so, but they were expensive and rare. She had tried her very best to hold onto the pills, even staving off using one after a wave; that was a mistake, as there was non-stop throwing up and convulsions for quite some time. Tetra sighed and took the pill. She popped it into her mouth and chased it down with the water. The feelings retreated even more and she felt okay. Well, enough to get up and walk again at the very least. This wasn't good, however; normally she felt completely fine after taking a pill, but she seemed to still be weak and shaking. Bad sign. Perhaps the sickness was so bad that even the miracle of medicine couldn't save her anymore? She got back to her feet and hauled the dropped coal into the engine. That seemed to be all the coal the engine needed at the moment, so Tetra retreated to her living space. She swore she had seen some people run down the passage after her, but she chalked it up to the hallucinations again. She entered her living space, closing the door behind her, and collapsed on the sofa. She barely got a second to herself before there was a hammering at the door. She tried to get up, annoyed, but flopped back down again.

"Uh...hello? Hi? Hello, hello?" came a voice from the other side, one that sounded like the sort of voice normally behind the ravings of a lunatic, "Are you the chief engineer on this fine vestle?"

"...Maybe..." she croaked back, "What's it to you?"

"We need to see you," another voice said, this one deep and female, "Something about a high tech device you have."

Tetra became slightly more alert from that. She stared at her overall pockets, from which a brass spanner with a green diode jutted out of one of them. She was unsure what they wanted with it. Perhaps to steal it? Perhaps they'd get her too? Were there stowaways on this train? Bandits? Guess the only way was to check by opening the door. Sadly, she was still took weak to get up and open the door, and that door was an annoying self-locking one.

"I see..." she said after some time, "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't open the door."

"That's fine," the first voice said, before a buzzing sound emitted. The sound ceased, followed by a sharper buzzing sound followed, "Seriously? Another Deadlock Seal?!"

"This Ringmaster really wants this stuff kept secret, doesn't he?" yet another voice said, this one also female but more 'spunky', for lack of a better word, "Alright...Deadlock Door, meet my cricket bat!"

"Janic, no!" the first voice said again, "If this door won't open to the most advanced ghost key on, or in this case OFF, the planet, I very much doubt a wooden bat will fare any better."

"True...why not test your theorem now, then?"

"Hmmm...good idea. Excuse me, miss Chief Engineer person? You know that glowing spanner you have?"

Tetra digged out the spanner, "Yeah..."

"Aim it at the door and hold the button!"

"...Okay..." Tetra aimed the spanner at the door and held down the button. The diode glowed green and a buzzing sound, identical to the first, filled the room.

"Good, I hear it! Keep it steady!" the first voice said, then some fumbling, then, "Hey girls; ever wondered what happens when two Galifreyan Screwdrivers work on a Deadlock Seal?"

"No..." both female voices replied.

"Me neither..." the first said gleefully. Tetra couldn't see this man, but she just knew he was grinning like a madman, "Let's find out!"

Tetra barely had the time to blink before a small explosion rocked the doorframe. The door relented under the pressure and swung open with force, spreading smoke and dust around the room, yet thankfully not actually hitting anything. Tetra coughed again, this time from the dust, and the three figures from outside stepped in, coughing also. One was some sort of wolf-like animal in a suit and bowtie, a blue necktie wrapped around his head and a sort of sneaker to contradict his otherwise accurate-to-appearance loafer. Behind him were the two girls, one a purple hedgehog in a red jumper and black jeans, while the other seemed to be some sort of hybrid between a scorpion an a hedgehog wearing mostly purple. Tetra was almost certain that she was hallucinating the last one, but preserverred anyway.

"...Well..." the fox-creature said between gasps of fresh air, "...I think that's pretty concise evidence. Next time we'll do that under controlled parameters."

Tetra, having been thrown to the floor by the blast, was flabbergasted, if nothing else, "I...how did you do that? WHY did you do that?!"

"Because..." the purple hedgehog mused in the same voice as the 'Janic' established earlier, "We kinda need you for something."

"Why? You've disturbed me in a time of weakness, THEN destroyed my door, and NOW you want me to do something for you?" Tetra growled, before silently muttering to herself just enough for Janic to hear, "Urgh...it's been so strange since Sonic vanished..."

"Wait, Sonic?" Janic asked. "As in, the hero of legend?"

"Yeah..." Tetra sighed, forcing herself back up onto the sofa, "Friend of mine. Well, boyfriend. He was my boyfriend until he...well, he just vanished. For some reason, no-one seems to take that fact at face value."

"Sonic as a boyfriend, huh?" Janic asked, putting her hands to her hips, "Interesting. I used to be Sonic- well A Sonic- myself, and let me tell you; you certainly seem to be my type..." she paused, tilting her head somewhat, "Now more than ever..." Both the fox-creature and Tetra shot Janic an odd look, before shrugging and turning back.

"Hmm..." the other female said, "Sounds like something that demands further investigation..."

"Perhaps, but there are more pressing matters at hand," the fox-creatuire shrugged, "Allow me to introduce myself. They call me The Surgeon. These here are my companions, Janic Needlemouse and Valarie...oh wait, hang on...Valaira Stinger."

"Tetra," Tetra introduced herself too.

"Nice to meet you," The Surgeon said, tapping his tie headband as if he was tipping a top hat, "And no, I don't have an actual PHD. I barely have a functioning time travel device. OH!" he suddenly jumped, "That's what we're here for! Your device, the one I've just used to, uh...destroy the door."

"You better replace that, by the way," Tetra humphed, before showing the device in question. The Surgeon shuffled over and grabbed it. It looked, for the most part, like any other standard spanner, but had a few key differences. The first was its handle, which was a lot like The Surgeon's own Screwdriver in that it was a ornate and rosewood-finished one with wires crossing around it. The head of the spanner had the most engraving, with more wires criss-crossing around the area until they stopped at the middle of the head, between the two parts of the head. There was a multi-layer (and bulbous) green diode with a small lightbulb visible inside of it. The Surgeon's face lit up.

"Yes. Exactly what we're looking for!" He turned to Tetra, "Do you know what this is?"

"...Not really..." Tetra shrugged.

"It's a Mark 4 Sonic Spanner," The Surgeon explained hastily, "Galifreyan device. Helps to unlock doors and other special features. Completely unable to buckle against tough odds! Unless it's wood. Or chicken. Or if you look at it funny. Anyway, it is something I've been looking for and we need it to gain access to our...machine. No doubt you've seen it."

"Oh no, I WILLINGLY ignored the large cylinder warping into the train. Totally didn't see it!"

"Now is not the time to be sarcastic," The Surgeon said quickly, "We REALLY need to get into my ship."

"Why?" Janic asked. "Do we have the needed tech to solve the problem?"

"I don't know." The Surgeon shrugged.

"Is there a way to get that tech to solve the problem?"

"I don't know."

"...Do you even know what the problem IS?"

"...No...but it will come to me in time, don't worry."

"...Okay..." Tetra shrugged, forcing herself to her feet, "If you REALLY think you'll get somewhere, I'm game. Let's go."

The five turned around and began to walk down the corridor back to the TARDIS. Along the way, however, Janic looked back and saw Tetra had fallen to the floor, clutching her stomach and coughing. She grabbed the attention of The Surgeon and both rushed over to her.

"Tetra!" Janic said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." Tetra said between weak gasps, "Give me a second, it'll pass. Just a bit sick, that's all. Normal illness."

"No, this isn't normal," The Surgeon said, "Not at all. I saw you in the engine room. Blood does not come up black, even around coal-powered engines. We need to get into the TARDIS as soon as possible and see what's wrong with you."

"Why?" Tetra asked, "D'ya think I've got some sort of space illness?"

"No..." The Surgeon said, "My money is something else. Something...quite worse."

**Whew. Sorry this took so long to write, College has really taken its toll on me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Next up is The Reborn chapter 5. So...yay.**


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